Stranded Deep
by MistuhSlender
Summary: Stranded Deep is a basic survival game. There is no real story to it so it is essentially a blank canvas. This story depicts an example of what the survivor's thoughts might be i.e. mine. NOTE: As I am a senior in high school, I am subject to much work on short notice. As such, it may be a prolonged amount of time before I continue to update Stranded Deep or possibly not at all.
1. The Crash

The plane ride home was long and monotonous. That doesn't seem to be the way that most people would expect a luxury flight to be described. The pilot and his partner were mostly silent, only speaking up when a radio transmission came in. I was extremely bored. I had accidentally left my headphones in the rental car at the resort I was in. That was a colossal piss-off. My laptop was at least in my carry-on, but, as far as I knew, it was dead. I had a notebook with me, but my pencils were in my bag in the cargo bay. My flight only had 4 other people on board; it was a small jet. The other passengers looked to be high class business executives and entrepreneurs, who didn't exactly seem too keen on someone of my stature to be flying with them. I made a rather decent income, quite a lot actually. But, I didn't make $500K a year, so I was almost immediately viewed as an outcast. Apparently boarding a luxury flight in a Hatebreed T-shirt, gray slim fit jeans, and tennis shoes is frowned upon in the wealthy community.

I got up from my seat and had a walk around, averting the scorning corporate gazes. I made my way to the bathroom in the back. After closing the door, I found a flip-top lighter on the sink counter. I didn't smoke, but I definitely like to set things on fire. I pocketed the expensive looking lighter. The amount of cigars I'd seen in possession of the executives was sure to have them crawling to me for help when they felt the need to accelerate their fast track to lung cancer. I made my way back to my seat and checked my watch. It was almost 1 in the morning. I felt the need to check my phone, it's large, bulky case fitting snug, almost too large in my hand. I dozed off in my seat. I was entirely unprepared for what happened next.

It was a very abrupt awakening. I felt like something was sucking me out of the plane. When I came to my senses, I found that something was actually trying to remove me from the plane. I wasn't entirely sure how, but one of the plane's wings was no longer where it should have been. The missing wing had taken a large section out of the fuselage. I watched as the executives helplessly grasped to their seats. I watched all 4 of them get sucked from the plane's interior and deposited far above the ocean's surface. I had buckled myself into my seat and I could hear the pilot and copilot frantically trying to assess the situation, but it was hopeless. I could only hold on to my seat and brace for impact.

The angle of descent must have been shallow enough to allow the plane to skim the surface for a short time before submerging its nose and snapping the body in two. At the back of the plane, I could feel the fuselage sinking fast. I had no choice but to swim down as far as I could to pass the broken section of the plane. I barely had enough breath left after freeing myself from the plane to make it to the surface. Once I did, I was too delirious to understand the situation. The only thing I could make out in my vision was a yellow life raft. I paddled myself over to the boat and managed to hoist myself on board. I was the lone survivor of the luxury flight. After about 7 minutes I took to gather my wits, I could see some luggage floating around. I returned to the sea to collect the 3 carry-on bags. I was lucky enough to not only find my bag, but the two paddles that looked like they went to the life raft in the first place. After pulling myself back onto the life raft, I realized that I still had my phone in my pocket. I checked it to see if I could make an emergency call. The protective case had done its job and my HTC was still functional. However, the impact with the water must have hit it hard enough to damage the LCD. The screen lit up, but was entirely incoherent patterns and colors. I removed my case and then removed the battery. Maybe I could turn it back on later in hopes that the touch sensor still worked. Hopefully I could remember the basic locations of the call mechanics. But first, how could the plane have torn itself apart? It was clear skies and a calm sea. I decided not to dwell on it and rather, get some rest.

The ocean rocking the raft back and forth was rather soothing. It was a calm awakening, apart from the seagulls squawking in my ear. I could see an island close by, so I grabbed the paddles I'd picked up with a stroke of luck and slotted them down in the holding hooks. As I paddled my way to the island, I took some time to reflect what had happened to me. I was the only survivor of an unexplainable plane crash, my phone was almost entirely screwed, I had no idea where I was, and I didn't know what I'd salvaged from the baggage that was floating around. The plane was also nowhere to be found. I'd gotten lost in my thoughts and hadn't come to until I ran ashore. I stood up in my raft and stepped over the side barrier onto the shore. My legs were still shaky from fear. I pulled the luggage from the boat and then pulled the life raft onto the bank. I then sat down under a palm tree so I could think of what to do. I had very, very little survival training, if you could even call it that. I would mostly have to rely on a set of logical thinking skills, at that moment, they were trying to keep me from performing a major killer of survivors. Do. Not. Panic. As I was sitting in the shade, I felt the need to prioritize my objectives. Priority number one was a dead giveaway, the first necessity of all life; water.

I decided next to have a look around what would be my new home until I could find rescue. That was IF I could find rescue. The island was relatively small, maybe about a 13 minute walk to completely circle it. After seeing what I had to work with around the edge, I made my way the center of the island. There, I saw what I felt could have been the crucible between life and death. There was a small spring in the ground; however, I had no way of telling whether it was salt or fresh water. It was unusually clear, but there was no salt that had calcified around the edge. I dipped my hand in for a taste test. I pulled my hand out and prayed that it wasn't salt. I pulled my hand to my lips in judgment. I let out a sigh of relief as I found it was fresh water. I spit the water out because I didn't know what could possibly have been in that water at one point. Since I had found my source of water, I figured I should construct my shelter nearby. The only problem was that the only thing I had sharp enough to cut was a pocket knife I kept with me.

I walked back down to the beach to have a look through the bags I'd salvaged. I started with mine, which had my now useless laptop, my portable phone charger, a jacket, a drawing notebook, another pair of shoes, and a metal water bottle that was about half full. The next was a rolling travel bag. Upon opening, I assumed it belonged to the woman that was on the plane. There was a microUSB cable, but nothing to plug it into. There was also some pens, a couple changes of clothes that I would likely use for other tasks, as well as some sundries that I would have no use for. The last bag must have come from the plane's storage. It was a DEVGRU digi-camo clothes bag. It was full vacation weight, so hopefully I could find something useful inside. What an odd bag for a business executive to carry. I unzipped it and was immediately filled with a mixture of thankfulness and shock. Inside the bag were two changes of clothes. One was typical vacation garb. The other was a full military deployment uniform. The patch on the chest read "Conners." I dug deeper into the bag, there was a pair of boots, a flashlight with a change of batteries, a straight razor, some basic sundries, a small mirror, and at the bottom, there was a handgun. It looked to be an FN Five-Seven, but there was no clip. Even with no clip, how would he have gotten it past airport security? That could say the same for the survival knife I found in there too. Maybe there was something in his wallet that went down with him that would say otherwise.

After having raided all the bags, I figured I should set to work building some semblance of a shelter. A look at my watch told me it was 1:29 in the afternoon. I didn't have much time to do so many things. Trying to figure out how to cut something down without entirely dulling the survival knife led me to think that I could make a crude axe with some stone shards and a stick. There were plenty of dried up sticks on the island, so I picked up the straightest one I could find and whittled a notch into one side for a rock shard, and two into the sides in hopes that I might find some kind of stringy plant to craft a makeshift rope. After a 5 minute walk, I'd stumbled across a medium sized yucca plant. After cutting that down with the survival knife, I'd harvested the string like structure and made a basic weave rope.

I walked back down to the beach to find some rocks. I picked up a rock the size of two baseballs and placed it on the rock formation on the island. I then picked up a much larger rock and hobbled my way over to the smaller one. From a baseball bat's length height, I dropped the large stone and the small one gave a loud *CRACK.* It was undeniable that it broke, but were any of the pieces usable? The larger stone rolled off to the side and revealed what it had done. The small rock had almost entirely shattered, but there was one lucky piece that would serve perfectly as an axe head. I picked up the shard and placed it standing up, and with a rock smaller still, eroded 2 small notches into the stop of the rock shard. I tied the rock into the notch in the stick as tight as it would go. It seemed stable, but I didn't know how it would hold up as soon as I put the hammer down. I checked my watch again. It read 4:40 PM. I didn't know how much daylight I had left, so I set the shelter goal aside in pursuit of fire. There was plenty of grass on the island so I could use that as a starter. I'd gathered a couple armfuls of grass and sticks and arranged them in a decent pattern. I wondered how I would ignite the fire, and then I felt the inside of my pocket. It was the lighter I'd pocketed before the crash. That lighter would become a godsend. As soon as I got the fire underway, I could see the daylight fading. I sat down to try and prioritize again. It was just then that it hit me; I was starving. I'd just finished off the last of my water in my bottle and had more spring water on the fire boiling. I'd forgotten to check if the bottle was stainless steel or aluminum. If it was aluminum, I'd basically be causing myself a small scale Chernobyl, just without all the radiation.

I had nothing to eat. It was 6:02PM, light was dying, and it was far too dangerous to try fishing. I was almost ready to give up hope, but then in the silence, I heard something behind me drop. I turned to see a coconut rolling down the beach. I rushed to my feet and grabbed the coconut before it rolled into the sea. It wasn't like it would make it very far anyway. Not without a wind current. I took it over to the rock cluster that I'd smashed the stone to make my axe from. I placed the coconut on the rock and hoisted the previous large stone over my head and dropped it on to the coconut. The coconut's shell was a resilient force to be reckoned with. But it had cracked just enough in the top that I could work the survival knife in and widen the hole. I shook the coconut slightly and I could hear fluid sloshing inside. I was enthralled to finally have made some progress. I took a drink and felt a peculiar look coming to my face. But at that point, I didn't care. I finally had an idea where I could get some necessary nutrients. I wasn't a fan of coconut milk originally, but I was fast becoming a fan. Before I knew it, I'd finished the last of the milk and my thirst was quenched. I was curious to try the coconut's edible interior. I returned to what was now my smashing stone. I placed the coconut on the pedestal stone and once again raised the stone of destruction. The second drop finished breaking the hard shell in half, exposing the edible center. Almost immediately I pulled out my pocket knife and began to scrape the broken shell of its nutrient rich fruit. It was bittersweet at first, but after a full day with no food, it was bliss. I'd finally found a decent food source. Considering I hadn't successfully started building a shelter, I dragged the octagonal life raft up towards the fire. I propped up one side with 3 sticks that were on the ground. It wasn't windy and the raft had a considerable amount of weight to it, so I was fairly certain it would stay put. I set the salvaged bags aside the shelter raft and thought of what I could use them for. I put my jacket on from my bag and the soldier's pants because mine were still wet. I figured I could use my carry-on bag stuffed full of clothes as a pillow. As I emptied the "Conners" bag of its possessions, I noticed two things. When I set the handgun aside, it looked like there was a small compartment in the bottom where the clip would go. It looked like it could be opened, so I picked up the gun and inspected the compartment. Lo and behold, there was one bullet; the emergency bullet. I left the bullet there, for I knew exactly what that bullet was for. The next thing that hit me was that I'd missed checking one of the side zipper pockets. As I pulled the bag closer, I heard something rattling. Opening the pocket, I was enthralled to find 4 bullets, but no clip. That was fair enough for me. I dragged my bag of clothes under my makeshift shelter and laid my head on it. I was fast to sleep, dreaming of what progress I might make the next day.


	2. Shelter

I awoke the next morning and immediately began to feel cottonmouth. I reached for the metal water bottle that I'd been boiling. I forgot to remove it from the fire, but the fire apparently died in the middle of the night. There were still some coals, but they weren't very hot. I still wouldn't want to take my bare skin to them. I felt the bottle. It was decently hot, certainly too hot to touch anyway. Answering another one of my questions, I found the bottle was indeed stainless steel, or else it probably would have melted. Using a stick, I picked up the bottle through the hole in the metal lid and walked it down to the ocean, which still had yet to invigorate. I would take a calm sea over a restless one any day. I lowered the hot bottle into the ocean slowly to avoid cracking the bottle due to a rapid temperature change. I took a drink once the bottle was cool enough to touch. It was warm, but refreshing. I walked back onto the shore and stood next to my fire. It was the first time that I had a true good look at where I was, which wasn't much. Some oceanic fog had rolled in and settled around my island, reducing viewing distance to about a quarter mile. Though it seemed like it would be chilly, it was around 80 degrees out. Looking at my watch, it said 8:47 AM. The sun was already high in the sky, and temperatures were rising still. I looked back into the "Conners" bag and pulled out his vacation clothing. Thankfully there was a pair of shorts in there. I couldn't tell what material they were, but they looked like they would dry quickly if they got wet. After changing into them and removing my jacket, I took one last look at my island and thought that this, day unknown, would be the day I truly made progress toward thriving.

I figured the first thing I should do is try to make shelter again. I made my way to the other side of the island to try and cut down some small trees. I readied my makeshift axe and prepared to swing for the first time and hope it didn't shatter. After swinging, the impact with the tree was more effective than I thought it would be. When I removed the axe from the base of the tree, I shook it to see how well it had held up. Tight as a drum, still. I took a few more swings at the palm tree before it finally gave way and fell. The impact with the ground wasn't as dramatic as I'd thought it would be. Nonetheless, progress was progress. After felling the tree, I looked at the top and found that not only could I use the palms for bedding; I could also use them to cover cracks in a roof I might make. There were some coconuts that grew on the tree as well. Forget killing two birds with one stone, that was finishing three questions with one answer. I removed the large palm branches from the top of the log and placed them in a pile along with the coconuts and set to work on cutting up the rest of the tree. Even considering my dire situation, I'd felt some kind of joy for the work I was doing. I had even been replaying Volbeat's 7 Shots over and over inside my head. I'd finished hacking up the felled tree into 3 logs. I could only drag two at a time, so that's what I did. After taking the last log back to my established camp zone, I went back for the palm branches and coconuts. After returning with the leaves, I went to the spring and placed the stalks in the water to keep them from withering.

4 hours had passed and I'd collected a decent number of logs, palm leaves, and some coconuts for food. The next problem was how to fasten the logs together. I left in search of more Yucca plants. In a short period of time, I'd found a small grove of them. After cutting several of them down with the survival knife, I'd woven around 50 yards of improvised rope. After cutting notches in each log to tie them together, I'd crafted what would be a lean-to roof. I sat down under the shade of a palm tree to reminisce about what I'd accomplished. After cracking open the shell of another coconut, I treated myself to its bittersweet innards. A glance at my watch told me it was only 2:19 in the afternoon. I still had plenty of time to advance production on my shelter. Another 3 hours of chopping logs and collecting sticks and Yucca yielded much reward. I'd constructed an 8 foot roof for a lean-to. I even built side walls. The front of my home wouldn't be supported by 3 or so sticks, but instead I'd made a full wall with an entrance. I would have to crawl to get inside, but it was a doorway without a doubt. I decided to revive my fire next. T'was a trifle and the fire lived once again. I was feeling hungry again, so I cracked open another coconut and consumed all it had. I'd become accustomed to eating primarily coconuts three times a day, but I was craving meat. A walk down to the bank gave me an immediate option. There was a large crab on the bank. It was such an enticing sight. I carefully approached the crab with the survival knife in hand. I quickly brought the blade down on the unsuspecting crab. The crab cracked in half and stopped moving. I wasn't a major fan of sea food, but I wasn't in much of a position to argue. I skewered the crab on a sharp stick and hung it over the fire to cook. I set my watch for 20 minutes and waited. I passed the time by drawing in the sand. When my timer went off, I pulled the crab out of the fire and let it cool for another 5 minutes. I pried the shell off with my pocket knife and began to eat what there was. It was a very peculiar taste. I'd wished that I'd had some seasonings to go with it. But then again, look where I was. I finished the rest of the boiled water in my bottle and filled it with more from the spring. I set the bottle in the fire and set my timer for another 70 minutes. After I felt the water was sufficiently boiled, I pulled it from the fire and cooled the bottle in the sea. I walked back and crawled into my successfully made hut, tired from the day's trials. As I laid my head down on my clothes filled bag, the crackling fire paired with the waking of the sea was soon to put me to sleep.


	3. The Following Day

Day three, the first day where I really had no idea what I should do. I had shelter. I had water. I had coconuts, though they wouldn't be able to support me forever. I even had a pleasant view to look at. I remembered the palm fronds I cut down the day before and, after having a morning drink, I left my log housing and went to retrieve them. The spring appeared to have done them some good, they were still living. I pulled them from the water and walked back to my camp. I placed the fronds in a semi-woven pattern on the roof of my lean-to. I figured that would keep some water out, should it rain. I grew paranoid of the thought and immediately began to look for leaves I could cover my hut with. After a short walk inland, I found a plant with very large leaves. I didn't know what the plant was, and frankly, I didn't care. After hacking off a good number tennis racket-sized leaves, I began to strategically lay out the leaves across my hut's roof. After I felt it was sufficiently covered, I sat down on the beach and gazed off into the distance. I noticed something. Among the cluster of islands, there were an awful lot of wrecked boats. I figured that since I didn't have much to do, I could take my raft to sea and see if I could find something.

The nearest shipwreck was at least a good half mile away. But, I set off anyway. The sea was still at an eerie calm. The water was also an uncanny shade of blue. It was almost disturbing. I decided not to let its hypnotizing beauty get to me. As soon as I let my guard down, that's when I would meet my fate. I kept rowing the raft nonstop until I snapped out of the trance. I couldn't be more than 15 yards from the ship's bow. It was a fair sized boat, maybe about 50 feet long. It was snapped in half though. That might make things either easier or harder to explore. I could see the sea's floor from my raft, but I wasn't sure if I trusted it. I stuck my face into the water to see how the salt water would treat my eyes. It burned a little, but not as bad as chlorinated water would. A good sized part of the bow was protruding out of the sea, so I rowed my way over to the ship and boarded it. I pulled my yellow life raft on to the bow far enough that I was sure that it wouldn't float away. I walked down the now sloped deck until the break dropped off. I was waist deep at that point, so I waded over to the door of the control room. I opened the door, which was rather atrocious because it was half-submerged. After opening the door, I had a look inside. The roof was rusted and rotten, so I wouldn't have to use the flashlight from the "Conners" bag. There was a locker inside the small room, along with nothing but a decent sized cabinet, a 3 legged table, and the steering conduit and throttle. I started with the locker. It had a very rusty padlock closing it. There was a slim looking pipe on the floor. I picked it up and tried to see if I could break the padlock. The gap between the opening mechanism and the lock was just large enough to fit the pipe through. I tried prying first. It didn't seem very effective, but I didn't have many other options. After two good pulls, the lock disintegrated and the locker opened.

As I was aside the locker rather than in front while prying, I didn't see what was inside at first. Something fell out and landed in the ankle-depth water with a loud splash. It was a scuba mask. That would help with any underwater searching I might need to do. Also in the locker was an axe a wetsuit, and an air tank that appeared to have a fist sized -hole rusted into the side. What a shame. I took the scuba mask, axe, and wetsuit. I placed them on the table, which was now leaning against the downhill wall. I opened the cabinet and was immediately in disbelief. There was a med kit, which was the first thing I picked up. After giving it a shake, I could tell there was still something inside. I was shaking with excitement as I opened the case. Inside, there was a space blanket, a pen of morphine, some wet gauze, a couple soaked band aids, and another lighter. I closed the case and set it on the table. I looked back to the cabinet and found an MRE, a baseball cap, some calcified sunglasses, and some gloves. I checked the compartment underneath the steering wheel. All there was was a stainless steel bucket. I grabbed that in a heartbeat. I grabbed all of my newfound treasures and placed them in my life raft. I waded back to the broken section of the boat with the scuba mask in my hands. It was grimy, so I scratched away at the face of it until it was mostly clear. I strapped the mask on to my face and descended further into the water.

I could see under the main deck of the boat and all I could see was the under workings of the boat. There was nothing of use. I resurfaced and looked to the back end of the boat. The small crane told me that this used to be a fishing boat. At the base of the crane, there was a toolbox. I swam to the other half of the boat and pulled myself onboard. The toolbox was unlocked. Upon inspection, the toolbox had a broken and rusted hammer, a crowbar, about 70 feet of wet rope, and a tape measure. I took the crowbar and rope and made my way back to the life raft. After pushing off of the bow, I began to think about how successful my forage had been. I was so caught up in the thought that I didn't even notice; I was starving. I tried to ignore the thought. But it pained me every stroke until I ran ashore of my island. I stood up on the beach and grasped my stomach as I pulled my raft onto the bank. I grabbed another coconut and placed it on the smashing pedestal. I tried something new. With the crowbar in hand, I struck the coconut on the top and cracked it perfectly. Using the survival knife, I carved the hole out and drank the coconut milk. Using the crowbar again, I smashed the top of the coconut and it broke in half. After scraping it of its fruit, I looked at the empty shell and thought that it would make the perfect bowl.

I stockpiled all of the spoils of my search. A look at my watch told me it was 4:33 in the afternoon. I had nothing to do but wait. My stomach rumbled again. I figured that I should try and find some more food. I picked up a long, slim stick and sharpened the end with my survival knife. The point was definitely sharp enough to do some damage. After changing into the vacation shorts, I waded into the sea to try and spear a fish. I spotted a decent sized tropical fish. I tried stalking closer and closer so I could skewer it. After one sudden move, the fish darted off, leaving me hungry and embarrassed. At least there wasn't anyone else around to see my failure. After 2 ½ hours of not getting a single thing, I was about ready to give up. But, there was that one slow fish that would make my meal. I slowly moved in for the kill. I raised the spear slowly and rocketed towards the fish. My patience was rewarded with a clean kill. I pulled the now still fish from the makeshift spear and immediately began to clean it. After removing the innards and bones, I placed the fish on a flat rock and placed it in the fireplace, and then lit it. I could hear the fish sizzling on the rock, but I didn't know how long to cook for. After 30 minutes of waiting, I flipped the fish over and waited another 15 before eating. I picked the fish out of the fire with 2 sticks and placed it on another flat rock to cool. After ingesting the fish, I drank the rest of my water from my bottle, refilled it from the spring, and placed it into the fired. I waited another hour and a half; I pulled the bottle from the fire and cooled it in the sea. After feeling it was sufficiently boiled, I took a drink, and settled down in my hut for the evening.


	4. The Wall

Six days passed with little change. I got up, drank some water, and spent most of the day trying to find food. However, the next morning yielded a strange experience. For once, I awoke to a cloudy sky. It was almost completely overcast. My digital watch told me that at 9:05 AM, even though it was completely cloudy, it was 86 degrees. It was more comfortable than a sweltering 95, or even 100 for that matter. I'd spent the previous two days collecting food, i.e. spear fishing, killing crabs, and stockpiling coconuts. I was good on food, and my shelter didn't need much improvement, I even had some leaves in an indentation for flooring. I'd decided that day; I would relax for a while.

It was during said relaxation, I'd had a terrible realization; I was alone. The thought only made me more disgruntled. I was angry that even though I was thriving, I had no one to share the feeling with. I was also sad because I had Athazagoraphobia, or fear of being forgotten or abandoned. I did something that I hadn't done in years; I genuinely wept. I wept for a good 3 hours. I was mostly affected because there was no one to talk to. I hadn't even talked to myself for the past three days. It was like losing your best friend. It's not necessarily that they're dead; it's that you will never be able to see them, talk to them, or even hear them ever again. Except in my case, it was everyone. The thought was so mournful it was almost sickening.

Another 2 hours passed, and all my tears had drained. I'd no more sorrow to give. Then something empowering happened. The clouds broke above me, showering me in natural sunlight. It was scorching hot, but there was something else that came with it. I began to feel hope; hope that maybe one day I may find rescue. I'd decided I wasn't going to accomplish anything by moping around. After drinking a quarter of the water from my bottle, because I hadn't eaten or drank in my self-pity, I returned to my tool pile and grabbed the axe, and my makeshift axe. I figured I could use some time to build a new hut. It was 2:16 in the afternoon. I'd wasted over half a day weeping at nothing. I told myself at that point, regardless of conditions, I shall not let sorrow impede my progress.

I had only a few hours of daylight left, and I had significant progress to make. After spending 5 or so hours chopping logs and making yucca rope, I had 2 would-be walls. I could use the roof of my lean-to as another wall; they all seemed to be about the same size. It would take me more time to fill the rest of the gaps than there was daylight left. So, I followed my regular routine at the day's end; fill my water bottle, boil it, cool it, and then crawl into my shelter to sleep.

The next day, I felt fresh. I had essentially purged myself, and I was already ahead on my current plan. It then occurred to me that I was free of most responsibility I would normally have. For the most part, all I had to take care of was basic necessities. The rest was just leisure. I decided that I should try and get the jump on my housing project before it got too hot. A venture into the island and another 4 hours of tree chopping gave me a good deal of logs to make due with. I worked the day by, consuming coconuts, crabs, and fish along the way. I'd even found potato plants growing inland. After using the last of the logs, I'd constructed half an octagonal shelter, completely sealed with palm fronds and an open door facing the sea. Finishing my hut left me with little to do. Taking a drink from my water bottle, I had a small realization. I'd been living off of the same water bottle for a number of days. It wouldn't last me forever, and I could definitely feel a significant difference in the amount of energy I had the day after the crash and my time of thinking. Then I remembered the scuba tank with a hole in it on the shipwreck, I could store more water in that. I would finish the rest of my water and then boil some more before setting off.

Two more hours passed and I set off in my raft with a full bottle of drinkable water and an idea in sight. The half-mile rowing trip felt like it took eons, but it would all be worth it when I got the oxygen tank that I probably should have grabbed in the first place. I shamed myself for a while, and then I almost ran into the ship. I bailed out of my life raft and boarded the ship. After opening the control room door, I made immediately for the locker that the air tank was in. I was relieved to see that it was still there. I wasn't sure why I was worried it wouldn't be there, but, you never know. I may have just thought I saw one. I double checked all the storage spaces to make sure I hadn't missed anything I might need. I didn't. I walked out the door and had a miniature heart attack. My raft was not in the spot I left it. I was relieved again to find it hadn't floated very far away; maybe about 17 feet. After striding over to the raft, I tossed the damaged air tank over the side into the raft. I pulled myself onboard using the short rope ladder. I picked up the paddles and slotted them down and set off back to my island.

I didn't realize it at the time, but I was very tired. It was almost dark when I ran ashore. I pulled myself to fill the air tank with spring water and got a fire started. Once the fire was sufficiently hot, I placed the air tank in the fire and placed my wet shirt over the hole. After an hour and a half, I pulled the tank from the fire and let it cool. I filled my water bottle from it and killed and cooked another crab. I downed another coconut and threw the shell aside. Tired of the day, I fell to my knees in front of my shelter and crawled inside for the night.


	5. Deny the Suffering

I awoke with a sharp pain in my side and a burning sensation in my stomach. I had no way to explain what it was because I had no medical training, even less in diagnostics. I lay in my hut, groaning in suffering. I checked my watch; 5:37AM. It was mostly dark, wherever I was. The sun was just barely coming up over the horizon, such an aesthetically beautiful moment, ruined by the equivalent of a migraine in my abdomen. I could barely move without plunging further and further into the pain. I could do little more than lay in wait for it to end, much like I did my childhood years when I had an upset stomach.

I fell asleep, not sure of whether it was from pain or a lack of energy. I dreamed of a rather startling visions. I was trapped on the island for eternity with no hope of escape. Helicopters, ships, and boats passed by without so much as a glance in my direction. I awoke and sat bolt upright. The pain in my midsection was gone, but now I had a headache from hitting my head on the ceiling of my shelter. After trying to rub the pain from my head, I looked at my watch. It was 5 in the afternoon. I slept most of my day away in pain, although it probably wouldn't have done me any good to try and fish while in such agony. I was starving, so I strolled over to my stockpile of coconuts and grabbed two. After cracking a hole and drinking the milk from both, I broke them the rest of the way and finished off their fruit. I had little else to do so I sat on the shore and stared off into what was turning into a sunset. I thought of my family, my parents, my sister, my friends. I thought of my dogs, one Labradoodle cross, and a standard poodle. I almost wish they were with me more than anything else.

That's the excellent thing about dogs, they always seem to understand what they're doing where they are. They don't get bored. I thought of a quote from _Sh*t my Dad Says, _"The dog is fine, he does not get bored. It's not like he sits there waiting for me to give him a f***ing Rubik's Cube." I smiled for once. It almost hurt because my mind was telling my heart, "NO." With the sun fading, I returned to my hut and listed off into slumber yet again.

I woke up the next morning free of pain, thankfully. Then I was hit by the thought again, I had nothing to do mostly. I wasn't like my dogs. I do indeed get bored. I cant have fun with nothing but a stick, besides drawing in the sand, but that exhausts very quickly. I exited my hut and grabbed and downed another coconut. Looking at some of the things I'd retrieved from the first shipwreck, I'd figured I could have a look at the other downed ships. I'd only been to the nearest one that faces the opening of my hut. I didn't even look to see what was on the other side of my home island.

I dragged the yellow life raft along with me to the opposite side and set off for the next nearest shipwreck. I spent most of the day exploring ships. I'd successfully found three smaller ships than my first one. But the spoils were far beyond priceless. I'd found 2 axes, several medkits, 2 fishing nets, an electrical cord, some buckets, and countless yards of rope. The feel was exhilerating, but the trip back to shore was exhausting. I didn't bother beaching right away. Rather, I paddled the raft to the side of the island that my hut was on. I pulled all of my findings ashore and piled them with my others. I gazed at the pile of tools I could create. Then I gazed at my watch; 5:07PM. The sun was going down, but my hunger was rising. A short walk along the banks with an axe in hand yielded a lucky find. A large crab would do nicely for dinner. I said my prayers and a minor apology and thank you as I brought a swift end to the crustacean. I started another fire with my lighter and began to slow cook the crab. I started to slow roast the crab as best I could until I felt it was sufficiently cooked. I opened the shell and began to dine on the seafood. It was delightful after a long day of exploration. I drank from my water bottle and crawled into my hut, and soon enough, the crackling of the fire was a soundtrack to sleep to.


End file.
